The Weapon - Oblivion - part 19
By Diana the Valkyrie
You must be one of the People
Update: 23/08/2003 to valkyrie05
I don't know how much time passed. Nothing mattered. Hope was gone. I was just
curled up in bed, trying to remember the good times. Trying to remember walks
in the park, a dance in the clouds, the way she laughed. I'd already started
to mourn her.
And then there was a voice; contralto, female. "Stop crying."
I looked up. No, it wasn't her. It was someone else. Some woman. I don't care
who.
Then I looked again.
How come she was in my bedroom?
How come she was ordering me to stop crying?
How come she was hovering twelve inches from the floor?
I rubbed my eyes. She was still there. "Who are you?" I asked.
"That should be obvious," she said, and moved closer to me. "Now stop
blubbing."
I knuckled my eyes, and shook my head, trying to get my brain functioning.
Today had been difficult enough without more conundrums. "You're flying. You
must be one of the People."
"Good boy."
"But Wendy said that the nearest Person was several thousand light years away.
You can't be ..."
"Actually, I was more like a couple of hundred thousand away. I was the other
side of the galaxy. And yes, I can be."
"But how ... ?"
"I can move faster than you think I can."
"But not even Wendy can move faster than light."
"No, she can't. But I can. You call her Wendy?"
"What are you ... ?" I whispered.
"One of the People, you guessed right. The difference is, I'm not a youngster
like Wendy, I'm full grown. Are you surprised I can do more than she can?"
I suppose, put like that. Wendy was fifty-some years old, but to one of the
People, that would be not much more than fresh out of the egg.
I stared at her. "But you arrived just too late, she's ... "
"I know where she is, and I arrived at exactly the time I wanted to arrive."
"But she's ... "
"I know where she is. Don't worry, she's quite safe, I wouldn't let anything
happen to her."
"Safe? She's losing her memory, her mind. She's lost almost everything, she
doesn't even remember who I am."
"Yes, I know. Don't worry about it."
"Don't worry? Listen, lady ..."
She moved towards me, and put one arm around me, and a finger from her other
hand on my mouth.
"No, you listen. You know nothing about the People, we aren't like you. I look
like one of you, but that's just because I've put an emulation round me. The
analogies I use are pretty good, but they're never exact. I don't have arms. I
don't have a brain. It's all completely different." "Yes, but ..."
"Quiet. Just trust me." Her finger tapped my nose. If it had been an ounce
harder, it would have hurt.
She pulled my head towards her, my face on her breasts, her hair curling
around my head. Her arms were around me, and she was humming. "Just trust me,
David. Calm down, Wendy will be fine."
I looked up at her. I thought, is she what she says she is? But I saw her
floating, if she isn't one of the People she's certainly something non-human.
And by Occam's Razor, she was probably what she said she was. And if she was a
grown-up version of Wendy, and she said that Wendy was going to be OK, I
should probably believe her.
Because, if she was lying, what would I do that was different? It's not like I
was about to rush off and rescue Wendy.
"Good reasoning," she said.
What?
"Now, fill me in here. You aren't her Wielder, are you? But you're obviously
very close to her."
"No, I'm not. She doesn't have, I mean, she did have, but he died, you know we
don't live very long, and he died, and she took it very hard, blamed herself,
punished herself, went into hiding. I got lucky, I found her, got her out of
her depression. She does an emulation of her Wielder now, that's Duncan, so
she hasn't gotten a new one, except just now she got so confused she forgot
who I am, and thought I was him, but that's just the illness, but I'd like to
think I'm her friend. Was her friend. And she cooks for me. Cooked."
"She isn't ill."
"She is, she's been losing her memory, it's been happening for weeks now.
Things just go, and sometimes they come back, at least partly, but mostly they
don't, and when her memory is all gone, she'll be like a blank. It's been hell
watching her deteriorate. Like watching someone you love, dying."
"You love her?"
"Yes, yes of course I do."
"Does she love you?"
"I think so, yes. No. No, I'm sure she does. She told me once, she loves all
of us, all eight billion, but me especially."
"Eight billion?"
"That's how many of us there are."
"On one little planet? Eight billion?"
I nodded. I suppose it is rather a lot.
"And she loves you all?"
"I think so. You know, she got us out of our Depression?"
"Your what?"
So I explained to her. "It was a few years ago, er, um, what's your name?"
"People don't have names. Eight billion, hmmm? That's a lot to love. When I
was a Guardian, on a different planet, I only had a couple of hundred
million."
"You used to be a Guardian?" "Yes, most of us do a tour of duty." "But you're
not now?" "No, I do my own thing now." "What happened to your species, did
they die out?"
There was a silence, and I realised I'd just said something wrong. Very wrong.
She was glaring at me angrily, and I really really wished I could hide behind
Wendy. "I'm sorry," I said. "Do you know you just gave me a pretty damn big
insult?" she hissed at me. "No, I mean yes, I mean I'm sorry, I wasn't
thinking." "Like I'd be a pretty piss-poor Guardian if I let them die off, you
know?" "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm not used to talking with People. Apart from
Wendy, I mean." She looked a bit less fierce. "They grew up, is what happened,
and they didn't really need me any more. Most of the time. I still check up on
them now and then, in case they need me." "Now and then? How often?" "Every
few minutes. They did need me a couple of hundred million years ago, it's just
as well I keep in touch."
I blinked. They really do think on a whole different scale. Then I remembered
the main issue. "What about Wendy, she's flying out to nowhere, she'll
probably get lost." "Don't worry, I know where she is, I can fetch her back
any time. But she'll be just fine." Well, that relieved one of my worries, but
it left the big one.
"Do you have any cure for her memory disease? Is it something that's curable?"